Fate

They’re sitting across each other. After hours on the phone from that first fateful encounter. They are finally reunited. Neither of them truly believe that this is happening. Barely breathing, looking at each other while they hold hands. Like holding on for dear life. The sun is shining outside. There is noise, but it’s all in the background for them. They feel like they’re sitting in their own private universe. Like all of their actions have taken them to this point. So this is what true love feels like? It’s not just a combination of chemicals and our desire to procreate. We are not doomed to fail. This is it. It must be.

And they are the lucky ones. The rare ones, that have found each other in this weird world.

As endorphins flow and their hearts are racing, a diode under their skin keeps lightly blinking, hidden from view.

“Are you receiving this?”

“The results are of the charts.” a grim faced man dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants states.

Sitting in a badly lit room, while several monitors illuminate his face, he’s talking to a camera. On the other side someone is mumbling something, but he does not care as his eyes dart from one screen to the other. Seeing spikes in hormone levels, listening to the audio feed that more than vaguely resembles the books, films and other junk they’ve fed to these two.

And they said programming people would be impossible. It’s just a matter of feeding the right inputs. The output is always the same. The program has a 99% success rate. And the one percent is accident related loss.

Another true love story unravels. Directed by someone you know nothing about.